Parallels
by arcadiabay
Summary: AU in which Chloe has powers instead of Max. [Pricefield]
1. Chapter 1: the end of the world

**CHAPTER 1:** the end of the world.

* * *

It begins with a storm.

She's on the ground with scraped knees, palms sticky with dirt and sweat and _god_ knows what else. She can taste blood with each deep gasp for air, warm and bitter on her lips. _Jesus.. my head._ She scrambles up on trembling legs, rain stinging as it whips against her face as she looks around in a daze. _What the fuck? Where am I.._ A dazzlingly bright light temporarily blinds her, and she blinks up through the thick trees, trying to focus her eyes looking for the source. _Is that.. the lighthouse? How did I get up here? No way, this.. this can't be real._

But it _feels_ real.

 _You've seriously lost it this time Price_ , she thinks as she struggles forward, arms shielding her face in a feeble attempt to protect herself from the violent winds tugging her in all different directions. Litter and glass and bits of wood are being hurled about, some leaving scrapes and marks on her that she barely even notices in her dazed state. Her mind desperately searches for answers as she does her best to follow the path forward, trying to remember what she'd been doing before she woke up alone in a forest, covered in mud, and in a _shit_ -load of pain. But her mind is blank, like everything's been forcibly sucked out of it, and all that's been left is a throbbing headache and one driving thought; _get to the lighthouse. You just have to make it to the lighthouse._

It's as she emerges into the open that she sees it, and her heart almost stops dead in her chest. _This is a dream, just a bad nightmare,_ she thinks, but she can see the tornado, she can hear the trees creaking and the sound of water crashing and the electricity crackling in the air.

It's as real as she is.. and it's headed straight for the town.

"Fuck," she tries to say, but her throat is all closed up and the wind is _deafening._ She stands there, hypnotised by the destruction, and it suddenly hits her like a train. She sees the neon two whales sign flickering in the distance. She can see her street, the house she grew up in. She can see Blackwell Academy up on the hill, directly in the tornado's path.

She's watching the destruction of everything she's ever known, and she can't tear her eyes away. All she can do is watch as everything in Arcadia Bay is torn apart in the chaos.

 _It feels like the end of the world._

She sees the boat being hurled toward the lighthouse, and hears the impact as metal connects with metal. Throwing up her hand over her face, as if it can somehow prevent her from being crushed by the tumbling debris, she squeezes her eyes shut and readies herself for the inevitable;

 _If this is it, I'm sorry.. I'm so fucking sorry -_

* * *

In what feels like an instant, she's back in her room, and it's like _nothing_ happened - except her heart is pounding so loud that she can hear it thudding in her ears, and she can still feel the rain battering against her skin like sharp little pin pricks. She looks around, frantic. _Was I asleep?_ _There's no fucking way that was a dream. It was so intense.._

She holds out her arms in front of her. No fresh cuts, no bruises, no blood. Her clothes are clean - well, clean _-ish_. She pushes herself up off the bed and rushes to the window, yanking it open. The temperature is pleasant, definitely normal for October, and there isn't a dark cloud in sight. _Then how the.._

"CHLOE," Joyce bellows impatiently from what sounds like the bottom of the stairs, and she nearly jumps out of her skin. She gives herself a quick once over in the mirror, during which she discovers that she looks nearly as shitty as she feels, eyes red and bleary, and then proceeds to drag herself out into the hallway. Her mom is stood at the bottom of the stairs in her uniform, one hand on her hip, one hand wielding a spatula. She looks irritated, but given what Chloe's just seen, it's a strangely comforting sight.

"Yeah?" She grunts, leaning against the banister for support.

"I've been calling you for ages, what are you up to?"

"Sleeping. Why do I always have to be _up_ to something?" She groans, thudding down the stairs.

"Believe it or not, I ask myself that exact same question every day. Now, do you want some of this breakfast or not?" Chloe grumbles a response and sits at the table, eyes still struggling to adjust to the daylight. _There's no way that wasn't real. But everything feels so normal now. The town – this house – it was about to get wiped out and then.. Fuck, I'm literally losing my mind._

Joyce slides two plates of bacon and eggs onto the table and then sits down across from her daughter, eyes narrowed in what looks like half concern, half suspicion.

"Are you okay? You seem out of it, Chloe. And what's wrong with your eyes? You know, it's a good job David already left for work or -"

"I'm fine, mom." She doesn't have the energy to argue for once, and thankfully apparently neither does Joyce. She eats her breakfast in silence without tasting her food, shovelling it in as fast as she can. Her phone buzzes in her pocket and she drops her fork, pulling it out hastily, that same flicker of hope that refuses to leave rising in her again excitedly. And then, as per usual, that tiny glimmer of hope is quickly crushed. Because it isn't her.

It never is.

 **ASSHOLE – 10/07 09:32**

 **U wanna meet, lets meet. Blackwell 30 mins. Don't keep me waiting.**

 _Nathan fucking Prescott, of course_. She'd forgotten about texting him last night, demanding to meet. _Maybe something good will come out of this day after all. Like the cash to finally blow this hell hole._

"I've gotta' go," she announces, plate of food only half eaten.

"And where exactly are you off in such a hurry?" Joyce asks, flicking through a day old newspaper.

"Job hunting," she lies, quietly grabbing a couple of step-douche's beers out from the fridge on her way to the door. Joyce just shakes her head, still engrossed in yesterday's news.

"Right, of course you are" she sighs. "I'm working til' late, so you'll have to feed yourself later. And Chloe," she looks up then, a sad smile on her face, "be careful."

"Always am," she lies again, before heading out the door.

* * *

 _God, I fucking hate this place_ , she thinks as she slips through the halls of Blackwell Academy unnoticed. _Good fucking riddance._

'Girls bathroom 10 mins' the text had said. _Yeah, because that's not totally weird_. _Creep._ Luckily most people are either in class, or _way_ too involved in their own conversations to notice her slip past with her hood up. She stops a couple of times on the way to quickly tape a couple more 'missing' posters to the walls, and rip down a couple that have been messed with. _I'm sorry, Rachel,_ she sighs to herself, balling up the paper in her fists.

She barges into the bathroom, half expecting Nathan to be there already, but it's completely empty. She notices with a smirk that no one's bothered to paint over the graffiti she contributed during her _brief_ attendance at Blackwell - and there are plenty of new additions. 'Rachel Amber is a whore!' says the biggest, scrawled obnoxiously across a stall door in permanent marker. Her stomach churns. "Fuck them all" she mutters under her breath, checking the time. _Late or avoiding? Chicken shit._

Leaning against a stall she takes a deep breath, her mind drifting back to the tornado vision. It feels weird now, the memory less intense, and she's already doubting herself. _Maybe everything that's happened is getting to me, making me see things that aren't really there.. It would make sense, right?_

She's going over the details again and again, lost in thought, when the tiniest movement catches her eye. A vibrant red butterfly like nothing she's ever seen around Arcadia - or anywhere, for that matter - flutters in through the open window. She follows it round the corner, weirdly fascinated, and crouches down to watch as it settles on a metal bucket. _Weird.. They usually leave if you get this close._

The sound of the door banging open startles both her and the butterfly, and she listens for a moment as Nathan starts talking to himself, not even bothering to check if he's alone or not. _God, he's even more messed up than I thought_ , she thinks, before rounding the corner to confront him. "You're seriously fucked up," she mutters, double checking the stalls one at a time. Nathan visibly jumps, but he doesn't move from his position in the mirror.

"I don't like it when people sneak up on me," he says, his eyes narrowing. "So, what do you want?"

"Cash. I know you've got plenty of it, and I know you've been pumping drugs and shit to kids around here for years." Leaning up close to him she can see his eyes are red and sunken, but he won't look at her, he just continues staring at himself in the mirror. "I bet your respectable family would help me out if I went to them. Man, I can see the headlines now -"

"Leave them out of this, bitch." His fingers are tightening on the basin, knuckles white, and she can feel herself rapidly losing her _own_ temper. _There's no fucking way he's getting out of this. Not after what he did to me._

"I can tell everybody - Nathan Prescott is a punk ass, who begs like a little girl and talks to himself,"

"You don't know who the _fuck_ I am, or who you're messing with," his voice cracks, and suddenly she's confronted with a gun in her face. She stumbles backwards in a panic, eyes locked on the barrel, and he moves toward her, cornering her like prey.

"What the fuck are you doing? Put that thing down!" Her voice is shaky as she feels her back connect with the wall behind her.

"Stop telling me what to do, I'm so _sick_ of people trying to control me," he says, and he's so close now that she can smell smoke on his breath.

"Get that gun away from me, psycho," she panics, and pushes him back, _hard_.

Everything that happens next is a blur.

The door swings open with a bang and the gun goes off, and she looks down at herself but there's no blood, _nothing_.

 _He missed,_ she thinks, but Nathan looks distraught. Everything's slowed down to a snail's pace, her hand still outstretched from pushing him back.

"NO," she can hear Nathan saying, but it almost sounds as if he's underwater. "Fuck, no.." The gun hits the floor beside them with a long, drawn out clanging noise that echoes far longer than it should. Chloe watches in horror as he sinks slowly down to his knees, head clasped in his hands. She can hear someone gasping for air, their breath slow and laboured, and then a heavy thud;

And that's when she notices the lifeless body in the doorway.


	2. Chapter 2: altered perspectives

**CHAPTER 2:** altered perspectives.

* * *

"Fuck, _no -_ "

All of a sudden, the room falls into an eery silence. Beads of sweat have formed across her forehead, her hair sticking uncomfortably to her face as tears roll down her cheeks and settle on her lips, still hung open in a silent scream. The panic is still gripping her body, her limbs stiff and her heart _pounding;_ but there's no Nathan, no sirens or shouting..

No body on the floor.

She stands rooted to the spot, lowering her hand and fixating on the floor where she _knows_ she saw the girl fall. _Did I black out? Did Nathan make a run for it?_

Yanking her phone out from her jeans pocket, she blinks down furiously at the numbers on the screen, eyes straining against the bright light. '10/07, 10:03 am'. _This can't be right, I met Nathan later than this._

Her hands are shaking so violently that the phone slips from her grasp, glass shattering noisily upon impact with the floor. "SHIT", _like I can afford to replace that in a hurry. Unless -_ She looks down at her hands, mind reeling. _Did I.. somehow reverse time?_

Feeling apprehensive – and a little bit ridiculous – she takes a deep breath and raises her hand again, trying to keep it steady. _Okay, try to ignore the fact that this is impossible, and focus._

Slow at first, but then increasingly faster, she can feel _something_ happening, a pressure building in the front of her head. She watches with blurred vision as the phone bounces up off the floor, the shards of glass reconnecting in mid-air, right in front of her eyes, and less than a second later, she can feel it materialize back in her pocket. Throwing her hand back down as the sensation in her head starts to suffocate, she fumbles for the now completely in-tact phone. _Not a scratch. Holy fucking shit, I'm a real life super hero. Which means.._

 _I can stop this from happening._

Throwing her hood back up over her head, she wipes her eyes quickly in the mirror and makes a dash for the exit. _I need to find that girl; she's not safe in there if Nathan shows up, he's fucking unhinged. Blue jeans, gray hoodie, pink or.. was it a purple top? Jesus, Chloe. Think._

"Oh for god's sake," a familiar voice suddenly grunts from behind her, and she groans loudly, spinning on her heel. "What are you doing here now?" _Great, just what I need. Hey, wait a sec -_

"Hey fuckwad!" she waves faux-cheerfully at him, and the look on David's face is _priceless._

"Christ Chloe, look at your eyes. You're high again, aren't you? Just who the hell do you think you are?" His face is practically glowing crimson as he marches toward her, but she just raises her hand, much to his confusion.

"Someone who doesn't have to put up with your bullshit anymore," she smirks, rewinding back just far enough to give herself time to hide. _Oh man, I could get used to this,_ she thinks, quickly finding a spot away from David's future warpath. _Find the girl, steer her well clear of Nathan, and then I play._

She stands around the corner, and watches as David passes by, completely unaware that she's watching just a few feet away. As she waits for the girl, her mind drifts to the new possibilities.. and to Rachel. _If only I could go back that far,_ she thinks as she feels her heart grow heavy in her chest; but the thought of using her power to gather more information gives her the first real taste of hope that she's had in months, and that's something.

Looking over at the posters she'd put up on her way in, she notices a girl lingering by the water fountain, and she feels her body grow tense. _That's her, that's the girl from the bathroom,_ she thinks, though there's something else about her body language that seems weirdly familiar. That's when it occurs to her that she has no idea how to actually approach her without terrifying her – she doubts 'come with me now, or you'll literally die' will do the trick somehow – but a quick glance to her left confirms that Nathan's already making his way toward the bathroom, and he's already looking agitated.

 _Fuck it, this is important._

Striding up behind the girl, she reaches out to tap her urgently on the shoulder. "Hey, look you need to come with -" but she's cut off dead when the girl spins around to face her, a startled look across her face like a deer caught in headlights. " _Max?!_ "

There's a long pause, as Max blinks up at her with wide blinking eyes, as if she's trying to figure out if it's _really_ her, and Chloe's already feeling a wave of nausea settling in her stomach as she realizes that it was _Max_ that she just watched die, right in front of her.

And partially _because_ of her.

"Chloe?!" She finally manages, music still blasting through her earphones as she reaches up to remove them with shaky hands. Chloe can feel her mouth opening and closing, all words dying in her throat as her brain struggles desperately to catch up with the shock.

"I -" she starts, but she's speechless – for once. Max is giving her what looks like an attempt at a smile, but Chloe's remembered _why_ she approached her in the first place, eyes darting up and down the corridor as she looks for signs of Nathan, and suddenly the awkwardness and her not knowing what to say doesn't matter. "Max, we need to get out of here, now." She says bluntly, nodding toward the exit and reaching out to grip her arm. Max jumps backward slightly at that, apparently startled by the sudden physical contact.

"Uh.. Okay, just let me freshen up in the bathroom -"

"What, still no time for your best friend, really?" Chloe snaps, narrowing her eyes and letting go. "Sorry – _former_ best friend," she adds with a scoff.

"I'm sorry -" she starts, but Chloe just shakes her head; _we don't have time for this, not now._

"Look, let's talk about it somewhere else, okay? I'll get in hella fucking trouble if I'm caught here again." Max just nods then, her brows knitted together in confusion, and allows herself to be led as Chloe marches them toward the exit as fast as she can without breaking into a sprint. "My truck's parked in the lot, we can head there."

They make their way hurriedly across campus without a single word passing between them. _What am I supposed to say, anyway?_ It's as she's taking the steps two at a time down toward the lot – Max nearly having to break into a jog to match her pace – that they hear a voice call out.

"Hey Max! Over here!"

They both stop abruptly, as Max waves over at a boy who Chloe doesn't recognize leaning against a heap of junk disguised as a car. He starts jogging toward them, the curiosity obvious on his face, and Max shoots Chloe an apologetic look - but she's far too concerned with getting them out of Blackwell and the hell away from Prescott to mutter anything more than "you go ahead, I'll bring the truck around," before marching off in the direction of her 'parking' space.

She climbs into the truck, slamming the door loudly behind her as she watches Max smile and laugh with her friend – completely unaware of everything that could have happened to her today – everything that technically _did_ happen, and she feels sick. Slumping back in her seat and covering her face with her hands for a moment, she concentrates on regulating her breathing.

Her emotions are in complete and utter conflict with one another; because despite the days events, despite how _relieved_ she is to see Max is okay, she's still so fucking angry at her.. at _everything._ And it's exhausting.

As she finally feels her heartbeat returning to an _almost_ acceptable pace, she sits up and reaches for the ignition, but movement on the opposite side of the car lot quickly catches her eye. _Oh for fucks sake, what now?!_ She thinks, grabbing the wheel as she sees Nathan approaching Max and her friend - his face like thunder. _Can I not catch a fucking break?_

She starts the car as quickly as she can, skidding around the corner until she's as close as she can get without hitting anyone - though the temptation to slam the car right into Nathan is overwhelming when she sees the way he's got Max by the throat, hot white rage bubbling up inside of her.

Skidding to a halt, she jumps out just in time to see Max claw her nails down the side of Nathan's face, causing him to stumble back just long enough for Max to escape his grip. _Damn, Max_ , she thinks, before motioning quickly at her with a nod of the head to get into the truck.

Nathan turns to face them - just in time to see Chloe's clenched fist flying toward his face. The impact is enough to send him stumbling to the ground, his hand covering what looks like a bloody nose. "You're lucky I didn't hit you with the car," she snarls down at him, before climbing in after Max.

"Get your punk asses out of there NOW," Nathan screams, having clambered back to his feet, before giving the door a kick, but Warren's already grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Go, I got this -" He shouts, pulling him away as Chloe speeds off toward the road.

"Oh my god," Max says, voice trembling as Chloe looks straight ahead, insides churning and knuckles white from her grip on the wheel. "Chloe.. are you okay? I know Nathan's an asshole, but - but you could get in serious trouble."

"I'm already in serious trouble," she mutters, watching as Max shifts uncomfortably in her peripheral vision. "Look, I'm sorry I got you involved. And I'm sorry if I scared you, but you don't know what I know. Nathan's fucking dangerous, Max."

"Is Nathan the reason you were in such a hurry to leave? He kept asking me where you were.."

"Yeah. He must've seen us leaving together. But before you ask, I'll tell you about it some other time." _Because how the hell am I supposed to explain the real reason? Like she'd believe me._ Taking another deep breath, she tries to relax her grip and focus on the gentle breeze rolling through the open crack in the window, thinking of something to say in an effort to divert the conversation – not to mention her mind – away from the situation with Nathan.. "So I guess.. Seattle sucked hard?"

"I guess," Max says slowly, reaching down to pick her bag up off the floor from where she'd dumped it in her panic. "I felt kinda out of my league. Like I never really settled in with the crowd there."

"Really? I'd have thought you'd fit in perfectly with the artsy hipster crowd. But I bet it still sucks to be back in this hick town."

"Arcadia Bay is still my home," Max sighs, looking out the window, "and besides, Blackwell Academy has one of the best photography courses in the country. It made sense to come back."

"Right, of course. Because only Max Caulfield would come back for a _school_ rather than her best friend," she says, and she can't keep the biting tone from her voice.

"I didn't mean it like that.. Don't you think I'm happy to see you?"

"No, I don't. You were happy to leave for five years without a call, or even a text, Max." Her voice is laced with resentment as she turns to face her, but Max won't meet her gaze. "You were supposed to be my best friend."

"You know I didn't want to leave." She says quietly, looking down at her hands.

"Do I?" Chloe scoffs, but instantly regrets it. "Sorry. I know."

They sit in silence for a moment, years of unspoken thoughts lingering uncomfortably between them as they rush past the thick trees. Chloe hears Max rummaging for something in her bag, and then a heavy sigh. "Oh man, are you cereal?" She can't help but feel the hint of a smirk pull at the tight corners of her mouth at that.

"Wow. I haven't heard that one in a long time."

"Not all things change, except my camera has officially taken a shit," Max groans.

"You can fix it at mine, if you want. My step-douche has tools, and we're pretty close to the house now anyway."

"I need very specific tiny tools," Max says.

"Nerd alert. He's got a fully stocked garage - and he really is a tiny tool."

"It would be nice to see the house again," Max sighs, stashing the broken camera back into her bag.

 _How can Max being back, out of all the things that have happened already in the day, feel the most surreal?_ Chloe thinks, leaning against her arm propped on the windowpane as they near the house. "God.. this day just gets weirder and weirder," she says, thinking out loud.

"Tell me about it."

"You have no fucking idea, trust me," Chloe half-chuckles under her breath. Max looks at her with a puzzled expression on her face, but Chloe just smiles at her, the relief that she's here - that she's alive - seeping back through the cracks. And for just a moment, in the gentle amber light as they drive down the familiar street, the two of them being back together somehow feels right. "Welcome home, Max."

* * *

"The house still looks.. nice."

"Home shit home," Chloe grunts, leading the way quickly up the stairs to her bedroom.

She knows Max is just being polite. The house is practically falling apart with its' overgrown lawn and rotting wood, half painted; a daily reminder that he'd never had the chance to finish what he'd started. "My room looks a little different from when you last saw it," she says, flopping wearily down on to the bed.

"It's strange to think about the last time I was here," Max says quietly, hovering in the doorway. Chloe doesn't respond, just reaches over for an ashtray and her lighter. "At least we can chill out here, for a bit."

"This isn't exactly my chill out zone, thanks to step dick," she mutters, folding her free hand behind her head. "Could you put on some music while I uh - relax, for a moment? This day has been hella fucking insane."

"Music, right." Max nods, carefully stepping over the boxes and clothing littering the floor as she looks around for a place to start.

"So what does Max Caulfield do for fun, now that she's all grown up?" Chloe asks, watching the cloud of smoke forming above her head.

"Not much, I suppose," Max says as she reaches down to flick the switch on the power strip by the door. Chloe waits for a second part to that statement, but it never comes, and she turns to look at her, frowning.

"That's totally depressing."

"Well.. I take photos," Max says, backtracking quickly. "Of everything. Things that inspire me.. It might sound sad, but I love it." Chloe's expression softens at that, a sad smile on her face as she remembers long summer days spent with her dad's old camera, her posing in the garden and Max taking so many photos that they'd get in trouble for wasting the film. Even as a kid, though, the shots were damn good.

"It doesn't sound _that_ sad," she says, taking a long drag on the joint between her fingers. "I always said you'd make a good photographer."

"I remember," Max says gently, and Chloe allows her mind to drift back to their childhood - something she's tried not to do since finally accepting that Max might never be coming back.

Suddenly there's a loud smash, followed by a tiny gasp. She lifts her head up to see the look of horror on Max's face as she looks down at the puddle of water, and the smashed remnants of the doe snow globe her Dad had bought her _years_ ago. "Aw dude, you broke my snow doe. Hang on -" Chloe says, thinking aloud before holding her hand up to quickly rewind. "Uh, probably best not to look there," she says, stopping Max in her tracks before she can tip toe up to rummage through the messy shelves. "Fragile stuff, you know you've always been clumsy."

"That's.. true," Max says with a guilty smile, backing away and looking elsewhere. _And Chloe's rad rewind saves the day again,_ she smirks to herself. _This is so fucking cool._

"There might be a CD under the bed somewhere," Chloe offers, growing slightly tired of watching Max shuffle about from one end of her dump of a room to the other. "It's usually the first place I stash things that I don't know what to do with."

"And you're just telling me this _now_?" Max sighs, crouching down to root under the bed as Chloe shrugs.

"Maybe I just wanted to watch you suffer for a bit," she jokes, though she instantly winces at her poor choice of words - considering the morning's events. Max grows silent suddenly, the rummaging noises drawing to a stop, and Chloe props herself up on her elbows to see her holding something in her hands.

"Hey! Give me that!" she demands, suddenly realizing what it is, and she lurches forward to snatch it from Max's grip.

"I'm sorry.. I wasn't trying to be nosey," Max says, biting her lip. "That's Rachel Amber.. I've seen her missing posters up all over Blackwell."

"Yeah. I put them up," she says, looking down at the photo in her hands, the edges frayed from months of folding and refolding.

"Obviously she was.. a good friend."

"That's putting it mildly," Chloe sighs, not looking up from the photo as Max sits down next to her. "Rachel was.. my angel. She was there for me when I had no one. After my dad died and you moved away, I felt abandoned." Her voice catches in her throat as her hands shake, fingers fiddling with the worn edges. "We were best friends, Max."

"I know.. and I really am sorry Chloe. But.. at least you had Rachel." She says, leaning closer to look down at the photo. "She's so pretty.. she looks like a model."

"That was her plan," she pauses, " _our_ plan. This was the last photo we ever took together. And then.." _and then she disappeared. Like everyone always does._ "Could you put that music on now?"

Max hesitates for a moment, and Chloe's sure she sees her fingers twitch as if she's thinking about reaching out to comfort her, but instead she just heads to the player, CD in hand.

"You can head on down to the garage, if you want. You'll find the tools in there," Chloe says, as the gentle music fills the room.

"Okay," Max says, lingering by the door for a moment, as Chloe settles back down on the bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. "Chloe.. are you okay?"

"Sure. I just need to blaze and be alone for a moment," she says, her voice utterly monotone. Max doesn't reply, and a moment later she hears the door shut, the latch clicking gently, leaving Chloe alone with only the music and her thoughts.

 _I'm somewhere, you're somewhere,  
I'm nowhere, you're nowhere,  
I could go there. But I don't.  
_

She watches as the smoke drifts up and away from her, flecks of dust dancing in the light. Her head is swimming, the days events playing over in her mind as her brain struggles to make sense of it all.. and there's one memory that she just can't seem to block out; Max's body hitting the bathroom floor. It creeps back in again and again, the gunshot still ringing in her ears, the panic welling up in her until she can feel her eyes brim with tears. She shudders, her stomach churning.

Clearing her head as best as she can, she focuses her attention on the possibilities her new power might bring. _I can definitely use this to gather information on Rachel. Someone in this shit pit_ has _to know something.._ _Maybe this is a sign that the universe is finally on my side._

She's completely lost in thought when Max finally returns, a sheepish look on her face, tools in hand. "Wow, I've missed _that_ face," Chloe says, trying to sound a little more light-hearted, hauling herself up from the bed to lean against the wall next to the window. "You can sit at my desk and fix your camera, if you want."

Max sits down at the desk and starts fiddling away with the broken bits of camera, the soft light from the setting sun illuminating her face, tongue poking out slightly between parted lips in concentration. _God, she's still so fucking adorable._

"I _am_ sorry I snapped at you, in the car. You really have no idea how happy I am to see you," _alive -_ she adds in her head with a shudder. Max stops fiddling with the camera at that, and smiles up at her. "So.. what's the diagnosis, Doctor Max?"

"I think this camera has snapped its' last shot," Max sighs, placing the tool down on the desk in frustration.

"Wait, I have an idea," Chloe says, kneeling down to root through the chaos of her shelves until she finds what she's looking for, buried under a mountain of trash. "I know it was your birthday last month," she says, holding the camera behind her back as Max tries to peek round. "So.. here. This was dad's. He'd be mad that I never use it, and he always said you took better photos with it than he did."

"Chloe.. it's so great that you remembered my birthday, but I don't deserve this," Max tries, giving her a little push, but Chloe just pushes the camera into her hands.

"Of course you do. Look, you need a camera to take photos of our reunion, right?"

"Right," Max grins, turning the camera over to look at it. "Thanks, Chloe."

"Okay, that's enough mushy shit," she says, bending down to skip to a more upbeat song. "Time to dance, hippy! Shake that bony white ass!"

"You _know_ I can't dance," Max chuckles as Chloe climbs up onto the bed, but she makes the tiniest little attempt, and it's adorable and hilarious at the same time.

"No kidding," Chloe grins, watching as Max's cheeks flush red. "Okay, less of.. whatever _that_ is, more taking my photo with your new camera!" She strikes a pose as Max takes the shot, tucking the developing photo into her bag as she laughs at Chloe's dancing.

"CHLOE," a voice bellows from downstairs. _Fucking David, ruining everything._ "I TOLD YOU TO STOP BLASTING THAT PUNK SHIT. WE NEED TO TALK, I'M COMING IN." _Okay, super powers. Time to test you out again,_ she thinks, raising her hand.

"Quick, Max. Music off and out the window!" She says in a hushed voice, before David can hear that she's home.

"What-" Max stammers, clearly bewildered, but quickly turning the music off anyway. "Why?"

"I'll explain in a bit, I promise," Chloe says, pushing her toward the open window, and the two of them clamber out.

 _How_ am _I going to explain this?_


	3. Chapter 3: explanations

**Chapter 3:** explanations.

* * *

"Chloe, slow down!" Max huffs from the bottom of the path. Glancing over her shoulder, Chloe _almost_ cracks a smile at the sight of her doubled over, leaning against her knees for support.

They've walked this path so many times, and somehow it feels like only yesterday that she'd looked down at a younger Max, struggling to keep up with her stride. _At least some things don't change._

"Hurry up, slow poke!" She calls back, walking toward the lighthouse at full speed. _She'll_ _catch up eventually,_ she thinks, sinking down into her usual haunt, the bench by the cliffs edge. She's glad for the moment of silence. She's got so much to explain, and she never could hide anything from Max; but maybe.. Maybe this is a secret she needs to keep. _And how am I supposed to explain something that I don't quite believe myself?_

The sun is setting now, the soft light reflecting off the clear ocean water and warming the bare skin of her arms, a stark contrast to the chaos of the storm she'd witnessed only that morning in her vision. She shivers at the thought, despite the warmth of the sun, and digs into her jean pocket for the crumpled box of cigarettes and her lighter.

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as she hears the heavy footsteps and quick breath of Max finally approaching her from behind.

"Took you long enough," she laughs, without looking over her shoulder, lighting the cigarette between pale fingers, and taking a long drag.

"I- forgot - how fast you were," Max says between raspy breaths, as Chloe hears the familiar click and whir of her Dad's old camera, the sound weirdly comforting. Photo op complete, Max thuds down next to her on the bench, looking out at the sunset, and then at Chloe. "And I forgot how beautiful the sunset here can be," she sighs, a weary smile across her face.

"Then why are you looking at me, and not at the sunset?" Chloe grins impishly, waiting for the flush of crimson.

"I was just-" Max starts, the blood rushing straight to her cheeks.

 _Oh, yeah. T_ _here it is._

"Relax, Caulfield. I was teasing, like old times - right?" she laughs, giving her a gentle shove. Max looks away, eyes now glued firmly on the horizon. "You're right, though. I used to come here a lot, with -" she shakes her head, smile quickly dissolving. "I've just got this gut feeling like.. something awful has happened to her, and no one seems to give a shit."

" _You_ do," Max says gently, and this time she only hesitates for a moment before she reaches up and places a hand on Chloe's back. It's the tiniest of gestures, but the warmth from Max's fingertips on the bare flesh of her shoulder somehow warms Chloe right to her center. "And I care too," she hears her whisper, in a voice so soft and quiet that she's not entirely sure whether or not she meant to say the words out loud.

"We need to find her, Max" she says, standing up and taking a step toward the cliffs edge, flicking the cigarette butt onto the floor and crushing it under the heel of her boot. "This shit pit has taken everything I've ever cared about, and I'm not going to let her be one of them," she says, fists clenching into hot balls at her sides. "This can't be a coincidence. You being back, these.." _powers._ She pauses as she feels a familiar throbbing welling in the sides of her head. "Fuck -"

"Chloe?"

Her vision is hazy as Max rushes up beside her, the pain in her head flaring hot and angry behind her eyes until she's doubled over onto the floor. She's vaguely aware of hands behind her head as her voice fades away, drowned out by the crashing of the storm.

Her heart thuds as she suddenly realizes she's in the exact same spot as before, only now, she's alone; and the tornado is back, only it's closer now, _bigger_ somehow.

Her elbows buckle under her weight as she tries to push herself up off the ground, but something flapping in the wind catches her eye. She reaches out with a trembling hand to grab it before it can be swept away in the howling wind. The paper is soggy and torn, but she can just about make out the date in the top corner..

 _..Friday's paper._

 _Holy shit, this is.. this is the future._

* * *

"Oh my god, Chloe.."

When she comes back around, she's on the floor, nails digging into the dirt as if she's trying to ground herself. Something warm and wet is dripping down onto her lips, and her vision is swimming. "Jesus.. my head," she groans, and she suddenly notices Max's hand gripping her arm.

"What - what just happened?!" Her voice is shaky, her grip tightening. "Your nose Chloe.. it's bleeding." Chloe reaches up hastily to wipe at her face, looking down at the warm blood smeared across the back of her hand.

"Shit.. _shit._ It happened again," she groans, trying to sit fully up, but her head is spinning.

" _Again?_ " Max whispers, her eyebrows knitted together in worry. "What do you mean, _again?_ Chloe, is something wrong? Are you.. sick? Or -"

"Max," she cuts her off, but her tone isn't biting or harsh, she just needs her to focus. "I - I need to tell you something. And I know how it's going to sound, but I swear I'm not fucking around." Max doesn't respond, but she doesn't relinquish her grip on Chloe's arm, either. Chloe takes a deep breath, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. "Max. I can.. I can reverse time," she says the words quickly, trying to keep her voice as level as she possibly can, considering the circumstances. "And just now, that was a vision, I think? Fuck, I don't know. But that wasn't the first time."

Max blinks a couple of times, mouth opening slightly as if she's going to speak, but nothing comes out. The grip on Chloe's arm falters, and she reaches out almost instinctively to clamp her own hand down on Max's lingering one, before she can pull away completely.

"I know how it sounds," she repeats, shaking her head. "But.. I warned you, remember? About David coming home, I knew we had to leave, because I knew he was about to get home. And this morning with.. Nathan." She spits the name like venom, her grip on Max tightening. "I tried to keep us away from him because I knew he'd hurt - _start_ something."

"Chloe," Max's voice is soft, her expression confused, and Chloe can't quite work out what she's thinking. "I think we need to get you home."

 _Fuck. Now she thinks I've completely lost it._

"Not until you tell me that you believe me," she says, shaking her head adamantly. "Max, I swear, this is real. And I know I'd have a hard time believing it too, but you _knew_ there was something going on today, didn't you?"

Max's expression changes, and they fall into silence.

She's about to walk away, to throw her walls up, to laugh and say it was all a terrible joke, and that she's sorry but _maybe_ everything that's happened has affected her; but suddenly she feels Max's hand find hers, and she's looking up at the sky with wide eyes.

"Chloe, look."

She feels the snow on the back of her neck, cold and wet against the warmth of her skin, before she even has the chance.

"But that's impossible -" Max is whispering, holding her free hand out to catch the snowflakes in her open palm.

"I thought a lot of things were impossible until recently," Chloe says, and Max's eyes meet hers.

And she doesn't have to say anything else, because she knows.

She knows that Max believes her.

* * *

 **A/N** : I'm back again! This is super short, mainly because I wanted to get back into writing fiction after working on my college work for so long. I'll do my best to finish the next chapter as quickly as possible! Thankyou for all the reviews, they're really encouraging and I appreciate it!


	4. Chapter 4: no emoji

**Chapter 4:** no emoji

* * *

Chloe's mind is busy - even busier than _usual_ \- when she finally makes it back to the house. Spending time with Max, the tornado, Rachel, and oh yeah - _freaking time travel -_ she's not quite sure which life altering thing to focus on from one moment to the next, and her head and her heart won't stop pounding. Yet as she quietly closes her bedroom door behind her and flops face first onto her bed, she feels warm. _Hopeful_. Or at least something close to that. Because yeah, she's still fucking furious at Max for leaving her, for abandoning her for all of those years without so much as a 'hey, I miss you' or hell, even a 'goodbye'. But seeing Max, knowing how close she came to losing her for good, it's put everything into perspective.

 _I can't lose you too._

A quiet buzzing shakes her from that particular headache of a thought. She rolls over to grab the phone, eyes adjusting to the bright light in the dark room.

 **MAX - 10/07 10:23**

 **So.. time travel, huh? Wowzer. :|**

Chloe can't hold back the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Even in the face of something this incredible, she's still such a dork.

 **CHLOE - 10/07 10:27**

 **Yup. I'm a freakin' super hero. Thx for believing me.**

 **CHLOE 10/07 10:28**

 **Oh, and no emoji.**

 **MAX - 10/07 10:29**

 **:(**

 **MAX - 10/07 10:30**

 **I can't stop thinking about everything you told me. Chloe, this is huge.**

 **CHLOE - 10/07 10:31**

 **You're telling me.**

She shudders, remembering the one thing she hasn't told Max. That she couldn't even tell Max _even_ if she'd wanted to. How do you tell somebody that they.. _literally_ died? And fuck, what could that mean in the grand scheme of things? Science hadn't _exactly_ been her strong point in school. Then again, the entire situation probably exceeds current scientific understanding. For all she, or anybody could possibly know, there's a reality existing somewhere right now where Max is -

 **MAX - 10/07 10:32**

 **I asked Warren to rec me some time travel movies. Thought it might help... or not. Worth a shot?**

 **CHLOE - 10/07 10:33**

 **Anything on multiple timelines?**

 **MAX - 10/07 10:33**

 **Huh?**

Chloe's grip on the phone tightens a little as she tries to compose the least suspicious sounding message possible.

 **CHLOE - 10/07 10:35**

 **I mean.. like if I alter something in this reality, does the original event still exist somewhere? Fuck IDK it's hard to explain.**

 **MAX - 10/07 10:37**

 **No I get you. I'll make a note of anything. The list he gave me is huge, could take a while. :|**

 **CHLOE - 10/07 10:41**

 **So what's the deal with this Warren kid anyway?**

 **MAX - 10/07 10:43**

 **Deal?**

 **CHLOE - 10/07 10:44**

 **Come on.. He was willing to take a hit for you with Nathan. Wink wink.**

 **MAX - 10/07 10:46**

 **Uh... No comment.**

She frowns down at the phone. Clueless as always, Max. Even as a kid she was so awkward. In a way, it's one of the reasons they had become friends in the first place. They balanced each other out. And while Chloe had always told herself and everyone else that _she_ was looking out for Max.. They had each others' backs. Used to, anyway.

 **CHLOE - 10/07 10:47**

 **Right. Breakfast at two whales tomorrow? My treat.**

 _Mom's_ treat, technically.

 **MAX - 10/07 10:49**

 **Definitely. If I'm still alive after watching these movies. All in the name of science 8-)**

 **CHLOE - 10/07 10:50**

 **Be there at 10 or be... just be there.**

 **CHLOE - 10/07 10:51**

 **NO EMOJI**

 **MAX - 10/07 10:52**

 **I'll be there.**

 **MAX - 10/07 10:54**

 **:)**

* * *

Not so surprisingly, sleep doesn't come easily, and the groan Chloe lets out when her alarm clock goes off isn't entirely human in nature.

 _God, why do I keep arranging to meet people before 11am. Dumbass._

A quick glance at the time confirms she's running late, as per-fucking-usual, and she scrambles to gather clean- _ish_ clothes from the various dark corners of her floor. After the quickest possible teeth-brushing and not bothering to glance in the mirror, she's out of the front door in minutes, un-brushed hair tucked haphazardly into her favorite beanie.

The warmth of the morning sun on her skin as she climbs into the driver's seat of her truck makes yesterday's snow all the more unbelievable. Yet despite the _terrifying_ events of the past forty-eight hours, it's Max on her mind. How she hasn't changed. How strange it is that these powers _happen_ to manifest the day Max needs her the most. She glances in the rear view mirror, suddenly regretting the _multiple_ times she snoozed her alarm, the familiar sight of scruffy blue hair and bleary eyes frowning back at her from the dirty mirror. _Eh. Could be worse. Why do I care so much, anyway? It's only Max._

Somehow, 'it's only Max' _doesn't_ ease her nerves.

As if summoned, a buzz from her pocket reminds her that she's _supposed_ to be in a rush.

 **4 NEW MESSAGES.**

 _Oops._

 **MAX - 10/08 09:51**

 **Are you awake?**

 **MAX - 10/08 09:54**

 **Chloe?**

 **MAX - 10/08 09:59**

 **:|**

 **MAX - 10/08 10:00**

 **Mmm pancakes. You know you want them, wake up!**

 **CHLOE - 10/08 10:01**

 **Omw. Tell Joyce bacon.**


	5. Chapter 5: science reality

**Chapter 5:** Science fiction, science reality.

* * *

Chloe is fifteen minutes late by the time she pulls up outside of Two Whales.

The sky is overcast; thick, dark clouds a reminder of what's to come. She shivers despite the warm October breeze, rubbing at her bare arm with the palm of her hand. Something in the air feels out of place - a buzzing, anxious, _unsettling_ feeling - though she can't quite place it. _Maybe it's me,_ she thinks, holding up the pale hand to her face for what feels like the one millionth time in the past couple of days.

 _Maybe I'm broken._

The diner is quiet when she finally steps through the familiar rusted doors. The quiet clinking of cutlery and the hum of the old jukebox settle her nerves a little, and she takes a deep breath. _Guess we missed the morning rush,_ she thinks, relieved. No doubt punching Nathan Prescott of _all_ people square in the face won't do her any favors with the local police. Though, it's not as if her _existing_ standing with them isn't already strained.

 _Worth it,_ she thinks to herself with a satisfied smirk.

She scans the counter and the booths to her left, looking for signs of Max. A couple of greasy looking truckers are arguing over the salt shaker at the counter, which is keeping Joyce preoccupied, her hands on her hips and a tired frown drawing her brows together. Chloe feels the familiar pull of guilt on her heartstrings. Her mom works so hard, always has, and she's been so.. _herself,_ recently.

The wave of guilt sinks to the back of her mind as she's distracted by a tuft of auburn hair poking up over the back of a booth to her right, and she waltzes over.

"Are you hiding from me, Max?" She grins, and Max jumps, straightening up.

"Jesus, Chloe. You can _literally_ rewind time and you're still late." She glances over her shoulder, and relaxes a little. "No, uh. Some kids from Blackwell were in here, and" she nods to the pile of books and hastily scribbled notes on the table in front of her, "I don't want them to think I'm.."

"Weird? Probably too late for that, kid." She eyes the books, scanning the various titles. "Time travel, quantum mechanics.. Not exactly light reading."

"My brain hurts," Max groans, as Chloe slides into the booth seat opposite her. "I fell asleep at my desk last night, this stuff is _way_ beyond my understanding of science." She pauses, biting her bottom lip. "Way beyond _anyone's_ understanding, probably."

"I'm a scientific marvel," she laughs in response, shooting the other girl a wink for emphasis.

"This is serious, Chloe" Max whispers, her eyes wide. "This could be dangerous. Your blackouts, the nosebleeds-"

"I know, I know. I don't know how else to deal, okay?" A loud rumbling from her stomach reminds her that she hasn't eaten yet, and she's ravenous. "Chloe _hungry_."

"Chloe _always_ hungry," Max chuckles fondly. "My pancakes were so good, I forgot how much I love your mom's cooking." Her smile is wistful as she reaches out and daintily presses a finger into a rogue pancake crumb, before lifting it gently to her lips. "We talked a little. She seems exactly the same as I remember."

"Uhuh. Except now we've both got dickwad breathing down our necks constantly. And she pretends like he's not completely fucked in the-"

" _Two_ slices of bacon, _one_ egg" Joyce's voice approaching stops her in her tracks. "Don't ask me for more. And I don't appreciate 'tell Joyce bacon', either."

Chloe frowns at Max, who is sinking back down into her seat. "Thanks a bunch."

"Don't you be mad at her," Joyce tuts gently, resting a hand on Max's shoulder. "It's so good to see you girls back together again. You were sorely missed, Max."

Chloe's frown deepens as she takes the plate off her mom. "She knows," she mutters, stabbing her fork down into the bacon with a _little_ too much force. The clashing of silverware on ceramic causes the other diners to turn and look at the three of them over their shoulders, their voices low mutters of disapproval.

"Chloe." Joyce's tone is bordering on the point of no return, her cheeks heating up, and Chloe sighs and holds up her hand. "I'm getting just about sick and tir-"

The world blurs and her head spins and -

"-You were missed, Max."

This time, Chloe swallows the burst of anger and takes the plate with a little less force.

" _Thank_ you," Joyce sighs sarcastically, and shooting Max an exasperated smile, she heads back to the counter.

"Been talking about me?" Chloe mutters, tucking into her food for the second time, albeit a little gentler than the first. She's got enough on her plate, no pun intended, and there's no need to add yet another argument with her mom to that clusterfuck.

"A little," Max admits, taking a sip from her coffee. "She worries about you."

Chewing on her food, Chloe takes a moment to really look at Max for the first time since she arrived. She looks almost as tired as she feels herself, and apparently Chloe wasn't the _only_ one who 'forgot' to brush her hair before heading out the door. "She should be worried about _you,_ you look whacked."

"Thanks. Like I said," Max sighs, "fell asleep at my desk. So listen, I was thinking.." Max looks nervous as she trails off, fiddling with the used cutlery resting on the empty plate in front of her. "Maybe you could.. I don't know. Do something. With your powers.. Just so I _know.._ "

Chloe thinks about making a wry remark about trust, but she can't exactly blame Max for being skeptical. She knows she would be, if their roles were reversed.

"Okay," she nods, swallowing her last mouthful of breakfast. _Still hungry._ "How about.. you send me a text. And I'll tell you what it's going to say _before_ I read it. Good enough?"

"Good enough," Max nods, pulling her phone from her bag. "You know I believe you already, right? It's just-"

"Max, it's fine. Just make it something _really_ good," Chloe grins, eager to show off her new ability anyway. "Something I would _never_ be able to guess."

"Challenge accepted," Max chuckles, fingers furiously tapping on the keys of her phone. Chloe watches her work, warm brown eyes flicking back and forth as she clearly puts maximum energy into crafting _the most_ creative text message she's ever sent. "Okay," she grins, placing the phone back down onto the table. "Done."

Chloe's own phone buzzes in her pocket, and she pulls it out before opening the text. "Oh come on, Max," she laughs, watching a blush creep over Max's freckled nose. " _This_ is the best you could come up with?"

" _Hey._ Give me some credit, you didn't guess it!" She retorts, shaking her head.

Chloe simply grins, holding up her hand. "We'll see about that."

"Okay, done." Max's voice repeats, and Chloe makes the point of tapping her buzzing phone in her pocket. "So what does it say?"

"Your _totally predictable_ message says, 'with great power, comes great responsibility.'"

"It's totally _not_ predictable," Max blushes for the second time, or at least the second time in Chloe's reality, and Chloe lets out a loud snort.

"Oh really? Because Max Caulfield lecturing me via text message while simultaneously being a huge, massive dork _isn't_ predictable?"

Max glowers at her, taking another long sip from her coffee. "Alright, super Chloe, I double believe you now. But my point stands, you need to be careful with this."

"I _get_ it, Max, jeez. But hey, doesn't mean we can't have some fun too."

"Uhuh. Safe fun."

"That should be your motto," Chloe rolls her eyes, though she notices the hurt in the other girls' gaze from behind her mug. "God, imagine the possibilities though. I mean, for all you know, I could have totally hit on you, been _brutally_ rejected, and rewound as if it never happened."

"I wouldn't - You wouldn't do that," Max splutters, setting the mug down with a clunk. Chloe feels her own face heat up just a little, and shakes her head quickly.

"But my point is, you don't _know."_

"As long as you use your powers for good, then I'm your girl. Your sidekick," she corrects, brushing her bangs out of her face.

Chloe feels a rush of warmth, not for the first time since Max has been back, and she averts her gaze to look back out toward the gathering clouds.

"Right. I need you. What would a superhero be without her sidekick."


End file.
